


The Baker Street Nativity Advent Calendar

by SwissMiss



Series: The Baker Street Nativity Verse [3]
Category: Nativity! (2009), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Advent Calendar Drabble, Angst, Christmas, Drugs, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Haha that last one is an actual tag, Humor, Johnlock Fluff, Kids, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Missing Scene, Music, Shameless Smut, Shopping, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwissMiss/pseuds/SwissMiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of 221b drabbles set in and around The Baker Street Nativity and will make very little sense without having read that first. These drabbles also contain spoilers for the main story. </p><p>I have changed the rating on this to Not Rated because I think it's misleading to base the overall rating on one drabble out of twenty-four. Basically, these are mostly lighthearted and fine for all audiences, with a couple of suggestive ones and one bit of smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mycroft Claims His Payment

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles have not been beta read. They are not posted in any particular order, and jump around in time relative to the main story and each other. If you want to read them in chronological order, see this post: http://swissmarg.dreamwidth.org/101832.html

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between chapters 22 and 23 of the main story, and is based on a prompt from JPerceval, who wanted to see Mycroft inviting Sherlock and John to Christmas dinner.

   
"Mycroft." Sherlock stood in the doorway, blinking at his brother in surprise. Looking him over, he couldn't see a reason for him showing up on Sherlock's doorstep: no one dead or grievously injured, no threats of legal action ... Possibly - yes, new girlfriend, but even Mycroft wasn't so insecure as to feel the need to rush over and announce it, especially as it was still early days. They hadn't even slept together.  
  
"Sherlock." Mycroft made that pinched, alum-tasting face he thought passed for a polite smile. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"  
  
"No. What do you want? If you have something to say, send a text."  
  
"You'd only delete it unread."  
  
"Of course. Good-bye."  
  
"Sherlock." Mycroft inserted his umbrella in the gap to prevent Sherlock closing the door. "I've come to extend an invitation."  
  
Christmas dinner, of course. "I've always come, you don't need to-"  
  
"Not you," Mycroft said, looking all too innocent. "John."  
  
"No."  
  
"Come now, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke as if cajoling a young child. "How do you think John will feel if you continue hiding him from your family? He'll think you're ashamed of him."  
  
"This is blackmail."  
  
The corners of Mycroft's mouth turned up a bit further.  
  
"This counts as payment for the play. You can't ask anything else."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it. Three o'clock?"  
  
"Bastard."


	2. Watching a DVD Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime following chapter 23.

  
  
"Budge over, you two." John poked at Gladstone until he groaned and got up.  
  
"This couch wasn't made for three," Sherlock grumbled, but pulled his legs in to make room for John in the middle.  
  
Once John sat down, Gladstone circled a couple times in the remaining space, then flopped down with his head hanging off the cushions.  
  
"Here." John handed Sherlock the cover of the DVD he'd just put into the player.  
  
Sherlock glanced at it, then tossed it onto the coffee table.  
  
"Don't you want to read the blurb on the back?"  
  
"I already know the story."  
  
"I thought you hadn't seen this before?"  
  
"I haven't, but look at the picture." Sherlock gestured at the DVD case. "American military court, hero, villain, token non-objectified female, and there-" He leaned forward to flip it over. "Scapegoats. The hero has something to prove, but he's inexperienced and always relies on the same tricks. It looks like the villain's going to get away with it, until the hero decides to take a gamble, likely at the urging of the woman, causing the villain to choke on his own hubris. The scapegoats take the fall anyway."  
  
John laughed. "Why did you even agree to watch this then?"  
  
"I have my reasons," Sherlock said with a grin and slid a hand under John's bum.


	3. Mycroft and His PA After the Visit to Whitehall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the middle of chapter 17, immediately following Sherlock and John's visit to Whitehall Studios.

"That was interesting." She slid a thick contract onto Mycroft's desk.  
  
He hummed thoughtfully. "Quite. I honestly never thought I'd see the day."  
  
"I thought it was cute."  
  
Mycroft's eyebrows shot up as he flipped to the end of the contract. "The last time anyone used that word in reference to my brother, he was six."  
  
"Maybe it's time they did again."  
  
Mycroft signed his name with a flourish and sighed. "It's made him sloppy. The Sherlock I know would have picked up on at least four ways of blackmailing me into doing what he wanted."  
  
"Miss that, do you?"  
  
"Frankly, yes. But I suppose we're all getting older."  
  
"I'll slip your mother a note about that leggy brunette if you don't give me Friday off."  
  
He handed her the contract back. "Thank you," he said with feeling. "You do my cold heart good. And no. You like my mother. You won't want to give her a stroke. Now what about Mr Park?"  
  
"Typhoon. We lost the connection."  
  
"Convenient," Mycroft remarked pointedly.  
  
"I could try and get Universal on the line," she offered. "It's almost nine there."  
  
"No. I'd like to let them stew a little longer. If you wouldn't mind, though, can you see what scheduling looks like on the twentieth?"  
  
"Of course." She made an entry on her Blackberry.


	4. Arriving Late to Christmas Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set several hours after the end of chapter 23 and was inspired by prompts from getoffmysheet, a-cumberbatch-of-cookies, rifleman_s on LJ, and sabrinaphynn on LJ, who all wanted something about Sherlock and John missing (or arriving late to) Christmas dinner.

"Dinner was at four. It's now ten." Mycroft steps aside to let them in.  
  
"Happy Christmas to you too," Sherlock says, brushing past. John follows.  
  
"One thing is asked of you, once a year."  
  
"I'm fine, thanks for asking."  
  
Mycroft looks them over, wrinkling his nose. "Couldn't you at least have changed? Have you been climbing through bins?"  
  
"Nothing gets past you."  
  
"Look, Sherlock," John says, "maybe we should come back."  
  
"Not at all, Doctor Watson," Mycroft says with a tiny smile. "Please, come in. Mummy won't want to miss meeting you."  
  
He ushers them into another room, where an older woman is seated by the fire. She stands when they enter.  
  
"Sherlock!"  
  
Sherlock kisses her on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, Mummy. This is John. Watson. Doctor John Watson." He brushes John's back, but drops his hand quickly.  
  
John shakes her hand.  
  
"So you're my son's lover," she says.  
  
John's eyes dart to Sherlock. "Erm... We're together, yes. I'm sorry, I've been looking forward to meeting you, Mrs Holmes."  
  
"I was so disappointed you couldn't make it for dinner."  
  
"We were too. We had something of a run-in. But Sherlock was amazing. He deduced all sort of things about a woman who'd been murdered just from her clothes, then tracked the killer through her phone. It was incredible."  
  
"It sounds beastly."


	5. Molly and John Go Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between chapters 8 and 9.

"Ooh, this one's nice. Feel." Molly rubbed the jumper against her cheek and offered it to John.  
  
"Yeah, but too much." John grimaced. "This is hopeless. I can't afford anything he'd consider halfway decent."  
  
Molly folded the jumper and replaced it on the pile. "He doesn't care what you wear," she said softly.  
  
"No... You didn't see the way he looked at me when we had dinner. I hadn't even thought to wear a tie. Who doesn't wear a tie on a first date to a nice restaurant?"  
  
"John," Molly said with a knowing smile, "I can imagine how he looked at you. It's how he looks at you in the break room, when he thinks no one's watching."  
  
"Yeah, like he can't believe I'm a grown man who dresses himself in the morning."  
  
"No, I... I know he seems posh, but it's all a front. He doesn't think, deep down, that anyone will like him for who he is. To be fair, most people don't. But you do, and that's... He sees that, and I don't think he quite believes you're real. You don't need to buy any new clothes to impress him. But," she continued brightly, "it always gives me a little more confidence."  
  
"All right." John sighed and picked up two jumpers from the pile. "Green or blue?"


	6. At the Cinema

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This follows immediately on after chapter 20 and was prompted by rifleman_s on LJ, who wanted to see what happened at the cinema.

This had been a bad idea. John couldn't follow the movie at all. He was hyper-aware of Sherlock fidgeting in the seat next to him, trying to find a comfortable position for his long limbs. Every so often, his elbow or knee would bump John's. John could have moved away, but the more Sherlock squirmed, the more John held firm. It was becoming something of a game of chicken. John would have said Sherlock was bored with the movie, but every time he snuck a sideways glance, Sherlock's eyes were glued to the screen with an expression of intense concentration.  
  
It wasn't just the current distractions that bothered John, though. It was that he had absolutely no idea what Sherlock's intentions were. They'd gone out a few times, snogged, had fantastic sex, and John had fallen in head over bollocks, only to find out that Sherlock had quite possibly been playing him the whole time, just as he'd played the school governors, the mayor - hell, the entire bloody city. John swore he was going to back off until he got his head clear, but then he went and gave Sherlock the song, and Sherlock reciprocated the gesture, and now he was on his best way to falling back down the same hole. This time, he had only himself to blame.


	7. John and Harry Discuss Christmas Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place between chapters 22 and 23, and after drabble 1.

"So what are we doing for Christmas?"  
  
"Sorry, what? Christmas? Harry?"  
  
"I'm not cooking for you, just so that's clear."  
  
"I don't expect- What are you talking about?"  
  
"We could probably find a lonely hearts pub or something that's open. Or we could do Tex-Mex, and veg out in front of the-"  
  
"Wait, no, Harry, stop. I have plans."  
  
"What plans?"  
  
"Plans for Christmas. I've been invited."  
  
"Invited? To what?"  
  
"To um... to Sherlock's... He's this bloke I work with..."  
  
"You have a job?"  
  
"Well not... No, actually, not anymore, sort of got sacked, but-"  
  
"Some random man you used to work with invited you for Christmas."  
  
"Yeah, he's ... my boyfriend."  
  
"Your boyfriend."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You didn't have a boyfriend a month ago."  
  
"It's new."  
  
"You're going to spend Christmas with some bloke you've known for a couple of weeks and leave me, your only family, alone. On Christmas."  
  
"Yes. Yep, that's about the size of things. But um, we can do Boxing Day. We can meet for dr- Coffee. Or something. Whatever you'd like."  
  
"It's not going to throw me off the wagon to say it. Not even being forced to spend bloody Christmas by myself in this bloody shithole of a flat that- I swear, John, he'd better be a feckin' queen in bed-"  
  
John hit the 'End Call' button.


	8. Sherlock Plays a Song for John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set after chapter 23, a day or two after drabble 4, and was inspired by prompts from snogandagrope, who wanted Sherlock playing Christmas carols and egg nog, and ruth0007 on LJ, who wanted John encouraging Sherlock's musical talent and Sherlock playing for John.

"Here you are," John said when he returned from the kitchen with two egg-nogs. "Oh, what's this then?" He stopped at the sight of Sherlock with his violin tucked under his chin. He hadn't seen Sherlock touch the violin since they'd worked on the music for the play.  
  
"I made you miss Christmas," Sherlock said. "I thought we might at least have some music."  
  
John set Sherlock's mug next to him. "We didn't miss Christmas. We spent it together. I've never had a better one. Honestly." John took a sip of his drink. "Although I could probably have done without you trying to poison yourself."  
  
"I had the right one!" Sherlock insisted.  
  
John gave him a sceptical look.  
  
Sherlock huffed. "What shall I play?"  
  
"What do you know?"  
  
"Mummy used to have me play all the traditional ones at her Christmas parties. Silent Night, Good King Wenceslas. Whatever you want."  
  
John took in Sherlock's rigid stance; his eyes skipping away when mentioning his mother's parties. He recalled how tense Sherlock was on the way to his mother's, how he'd reacted to her barely veiled disapproval of him, his achievements; of John.  
  
"You know what?" John said. "I think it's time for some new traditions. Play the song you wrote for the Annunciation. Your version."  
  
Sherlock smiled and picked up his bow.


	9. Sherlock at the Royal College of Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set seven years before the main story.

  
"Knock, knock," Jim said brightly.  
  
Sherlock turned around, his violin still propped on his shoulder. He thought he'd locked his dorm room door. "What do you want?" he asked, frowning.  
  
Jim made a woebegone face. "That sounded awful," he said.  
  
"Bored," Sherlock muttered. He hadn't really been playing anything, just scraping the bow across the strings. He set the violin down. He knew why Jim was here. He hadn't bought anything from him in over a week. An experiment. To see if he could control it. And he could. Obviously. It had been easy. For the most part.  
  
Jim was smirking, obviously following Sherlock's train of thought.  
  
"Turn around," Sherlock said.  
  
"Of course," Jim agreed easily and complied, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.  
  
Sherlock climbed onto his desk and retrieved some notes from his hiding place, then jumped down. "Give me ten," he said, proffering the money.  
  
Jim turned around. "Oh, I thought we could try something else this time. Cash for goods is so twentieth century."  
  
Sherlock should have seen it coming. Instead, he stood there blinking stupidly. "What did you have in mind?" The best he could come up with was sitting a test or writing a paper, both services which Jim also provided.  
  
But Jim nodded behind Sherlock, his lips unfurling into a wicked smile. "Bed."


	10. Sherlock Goes Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between chapters 22 and 23 and is based on prompts from Zain and JPerceval, who wanted to see Sherlock shopping for a not-Christmas present for John.

This was intolerable, Sherlock thought when he was elbowed for the third time as he tried to navigate the crowd of last-minute shoppers. He didn't even know what he wanted to buy. What gift said 'You are the only thing of value I've ever had in my life and I may literally stop breathing if I ever lose you, so please ignore absolutely everything I do from here on out'? Without coming across as needy and/or psychotic, went without saying.  
  
Of course, officially, they weren't buying each other presents, but John had already given Sherlock the new gloves (which he might have taken to wearing to bed on those nights John didn't stay over), forcing Sherlock to go out and buy him the scarf, and Sherlock had more than a sneaking suspicion there was going to be another not-present under the metaphorical tree for him come Christmas morning. And somehow, he didn't think a bag of tea, no matter how exotic, was going to measure up.  
  
Sherlock felt like he was suffocating in the department store. He lunged for the door. A few shops down was the pet shop where he bought Gladstone's food. It wasn't likely to be busy; surely no one was idiotic enough to buy their pets Christmas presents. A few minutes' respite might help refresh his brain.


	11. Gratuitous Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place sometime after chapter 23 and is in response to a prompt by a-cumberbatch-of-cookies, who wanted smut. :D

"Fuck, Sherlock..." John twisted his head sideways and screwed his eyes shut. His hands clenched and grasped at nothing as he tried to stave off his orgasm for a little bit longer.  
  
Having Sherlock's mouth on him for the first time - really on him, no barriers, slick wet lips and tongue caressing and pulling and sliding - was almost too much.  
  
They'd got tested last week, and the results came back clean, but there'd been a case that kept them running across rooftops and diving into bins until last night. And then John awoke this morning to find Sherlock between his legs. Not the worst way to greet the day.  
  
Sherlock made a questioning sound and pulled off. "Would you rather be inside me?"  
  
John looked down. Sherlock's dark hair was pressed flat, he had three days' worth of stubble - neither of them had showered before tumbling into bed - and he looked so earnest, as if John's preference for orgasm were a weighty issue that bore serious consideration, that John's heart swelled with the knowledge that he loved this man more than he'd ever be able to express.  
  
He stroked Sherlock's hand where it was gripping his hip. "No, this is perfect."  
  
Without losing eye contact, Sherlock picked up his cock and sucked him down to the base.


	12. The Staff Christmas Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place sometime between chapter 11 and 16 and is based on a prompt by ladyprydian on LJ, who wanted a staff Christmas party. Just a reminder, Nigel is the first name I gave to Anderson in this fic, which was posted before series 3 came out with the information about his real first name. ;)

"God, look at them. It's disgusting." Nigel grimaced and took a big gulp of his punch.  
  
Sally peered through the teachers' lounge full of staff members drinking, chatting, even attempting to dance to a CD of Christmas songs someone had popped in to lend the party some holiday spirit.  
  
"Who?" she asked.  
  
Nigel gestured with his cup. "Holmes and Watson. They're practically licking each other's faces."  
  
Sally finally got a line on them. They were standing by the window, their heads leaning together in order to be heard over the ambient noise. "They're just talking." Not that she had any particular desire to defend Holmes or his assistant, but she didn't see anything untoward. And she felt like being contradictory to Nigel, who had been a rather humongous dick the past couple of weeks.  
  
"If I stood that close to someone I was just talking to, they'd have me down for sexual harrassment."  
  
Sally narrowed her eyes at him. She could not believe she'd ever let him put his hands down her pants. "You know what, Nigel, I think you're a bit of a homophobe."  
  
He scoffed. "It's nothing to do with that. It's Holmes. I don't see how anyone could... With him."  
  
"I think you spend an awful lot of time thinking about Sherlock Holmes' sex life," she said bluntly.


	13. The Christening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set about six months after the main story.

It was every bit as tedious as he'd expected. The christening alone had been enough to bring on a dull throbbing in his head, but then John insisted they attend the reception afterwards at the Stamfords' as well.  
  
"I'm the godfather, Sherlock, I can't very well beg off."  
  
"Just say we have a case."  
  
"We were already late because we actually did have a case. I'm not making one up now so you can go home and dissect cow hearts."  
  
"Pig pancreases," Sherlock corrected him petulantly. He wondered if John would let him put on a fresh nicotine patch yet.  
  
John grinned and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets. Which meant John wanted to kiss him but was being mindful of offending Stamford's in-laws' sensibilities. Yet another reason why he wanted to leave.  
  
And on top of everything else, Molly Hooper was also being enormously irritating, acting like they were friends just because she and John got on.  
  
"Isn't Joe darling?" she sighed where she stood next to him, holding a glass of wine.  
  
Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "Who's Joe?"  
  
She laughed and shared a look with John. "Mike and Shelly's baby."  
  
John looked fondly at Sherlock. "At least come and meet him."  
  
Sherlock would have flatly refused if it hadn't been for John's arm wrapped firmly around his back.


	14. What the Children Think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place sometime during chapter 15 and is for a prompt by Lorelei_Lee, who wanted the POV of one of the children.

Jade beckoned her classmates closer, then confided in a stage whisper, "My brother saw Mr Watson and Mr Holmes last night, and they were kissing!"  
  
On top of the general chorus of 'eww's, Alfie screwed up his face in disgust. "What, on the mouth?"  
  
"Of course on the mouth, what do you think, on the knee?"  
  
"You mean a quick one, like when you have to say hi to your gran, or with their arms round each other and really long like in the movies?"  
  
" _Really_ long."  
  
There was another chorus of 'eww's.  
  
"I'm never going to kiss anyone," Alfie vowed.  
  
"You have to for the play," Saffron pointed out.  
  
"Mr Watson said we don't have to."  
  
"But Mary and Joseph got married and kissed, and we're all pretending to be Mary and Joseph, so we're supposed to," Preeti insisted.  
  
"Do you think they're going to get married?" Bob piped up.  
  
"Mary and Joseph?" Alfie asked.  
  
"No, dummy, Mr Holmes and Mr Watson."  
  
"They can't, they're two boys," Ollie objected.  
  
"Two boys can get married," Jade said. "Didn't you see that video on YouTube where they all danced in the DIY shop?"  
  
"Ooh yeah, that was cool!" Saffron squealed. "Maybe we can all dance so Mr Holmes can ask Mr Watson to marry him!"  
  
The boys agreed enthusiastically: "That'd be boss!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen the DIY marriage proposal, it is really cute and it's here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4HpWQmEXrM


	15. Mr Holmes ♥ Mr Watson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a day after drabble 14, so in chapter 15-16 of the main story. It is based on prompts from labellecreation on LJ, who wanted a follow-up to [this manip](http://labellecreation.livejournal.com/41406.html), and Eggs&b, who wanted John watching Sherlock being effective with the kids.

Mr Holmes ♥ Mr Watson. Christ. And a smiley face to boot. John folded his arms and faced the class.  
  
"All right, who did it?"  
  
A titter rippled through the desks.  
  
"It's obvious who did it." Sherlock spoke up from behind him.  
  
John turned around, raising his eyebrows, because it really wasn't. Half the class looked guilty and the other half embarrassed.  
  
"Handwriting," Sherlock said, his exasperation apparent. He flicked his laser-pointer eyes through the rows of suspects. They responded by falling silent, squirming, and looking anywhere but the front of the room.  
  
"If you need to write something that you would prefer not to be identified as the author of, you should learn to disguise your handwriting, although even that isn't foolproof. It's still you writing it, and there will still be tells.  
  
"Everyone take out a sheet of paper and write out all ten of this week's spelling words, making your best attempt to disguise your handwriting. Do not put your name on your paper. Mr Watson will then collect them. Anyone whose paper I cannot immediately identify and who has spelled all ten words correctly is absolved from additional homework tonight. Everyone else will write ten sentences incorporating the words. You may begin."  
  
The children silently got to work. John gave Sherlock a nod of acknowledgment. Not bad.


	16. The First Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between chapters 16 and 17.

When John awoke, Sherlock was lying on his side staring at him, his head propped on his hand.  
  
"Your erections during REM sleep are highly distracting."  
  
"Um. Sorry?" John was having trouble thinking anything beyond 'I am lying half-naked in bed next to Sherlock Holmes, who is also half-naked'. Which wasn't helping his erection situation. After a moment, though, one thought emerged from the maelstrom of disbelief and fist-pumping triumph: "Wait, were you watching me sleep?"  
  
Sherlock's expression registered brief panic before fading into mild annoyance. "It's not as if I have anything else to do waiting for you to awaken."  
  
"You could sleep."  
  
"Boring."  
  
"Yeah, so... what exactly should I be awake for?" John folded his hands over his chest, hoping to mask the fact his heart was galloping a mile a minute.  
  
"Nothing, I'm simply not used to having someone lying there breathing all night."  
  
John's heart sank. He'd known intimacy was difficult for Sherlock. It seemed this was too much after all. "Okay. I mean, I liked it - very much - but we don't-"  
  
Sherlock lunged forward and kissed him. "Not what I meant."  
  
John fought a ridiculous grin. "Okay. Good. I'll try to... breathe less. And have fewer erections."  
  
Sherlock smiled against his cheek. "Actually, I'd hoped you'd continue to do quite a lot of both."


	17. John After Whitehall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the first half of chapter 18 and is based on a prompt by all-round wonderful person, mildredandbobbin, who wanted to see John's POV after they got fired.

"I have no idea what I'm doing any more, Mike. I'm potentially the subject of a bloody criminal investigation!" John hissed, clutching the mug of tea Mike's wife gave him before discreetly withdrawing to leave the two men alone.  
  
"John, you know no one blames you," Mike said.  
  
John shook his head. "They should. I didn't stop him. I could have, at any point. I knew what was going on, but I was thinking with my dick."  
  
"He is extraordinary," Mike acknowledged.  
  
"That's no excuse. Fraud, kidnapping, possibly embezzlement- I don't even want to know what he was doing in my bank account."  
  
"Don't be too sure."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Whatever it was, it's probably not what you think. Look, the thing about Sherlock is... He may not have much truck with the standard rules of society, but he's not actually malicious. If he does anything that looks dodgy, either he genuinely doesn't realise it, or there's a good reason behind it. Well, a good reason in Sherlock's mind, but more often than not it's valid at the core. Somehow." Mike gave him a hopeful, lopsided smile.  
  
John shook his head. "I can't trust my own judgment anymore, much less his."  
  
"Give it a few days."  
  
John stared into his tea. "I don't see how this can get better."


	18. The Dog Walker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very loosely based on a prompt from kitmerlot1213, who wanted seasonal baking, and is set about 3 weeks after chapter 23, on the first Monday after the winter break for school.

John considered the honey. It would make a hellish mess. Gladstone, who'd followed him downstairs, looked up hopefully. Maybe olive oil? It had a strong taste and would additionally work as a lubricant. The flavoured stuff they'd bought when they'd decided to try this made him gag. As he took the bottle, he heard the front door open.  
  
"Sherlock?" John had left him fingered open and dripping. He was in no state to go out. Gladstone leapt toward the door, with John trailing after. It was then he considered he should possibly have put something on before coming downstairs.  
  
"Hello." A young, very startled man stood in the hall, Gladstone cavorting at his feet.  
  
John stood there with the honey and oil. "Erm... hello. Who are you?"  
  
He held up Gladstone's lead, which he'd taken from the hook. "Dog walker. You?"  
  
"Ah. Boyfriend."  
  
The man grinned.  
  
"Sherlock?" John called upstairs. "Can you come down? Might want to throw something on." To the man, he said, "I'll ..." and gestured at the kitchen.  
  
"Please."  
  
John retreated, returning a moment later with a strategic tea towel. Sherlock had appeared by now in his dressing gown.  
  
"Oh, Wiggins. I won't be needing you this week after all. Can I text you?"  
  
"No problem." Wiggins backed out the door again, winking broadly. "Have fun 'baking'."


	19. Baskerville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a couple of months after the end of the main fic.

"What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
"Sherlock!" John scolds, reaching over to shake Greg's hand. "Nice to see you. Although it is quite a surprise."  
  
"Nice to see you too. I'm on holiday, would you believe?"  
  
"No, I wouldn't." Sherlock eyes him suspiciously. "You're brown as a nut, clearly just back from holiday. So why are you here?" He groans. "Mycroft. One mention of Baskerville and he sends down a handler to spy on me."  
  
Greg splutters, "Look, I'm not your handler. And I don't do what your brother tells me. But yes, he asked if I wouldn't mind popping down." He turns to John. "How the hell does he do that?"  
  
John tilts his head toward Sherlock. "Genius," he says happily.  
  
"Still together, I see." Greg grins, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.  
  
"Yeah, thanks. We're actually here on a case. Sherlock's a consulting detective now."  
  
"Consulting what?"  
  
"Consulting detecive," Sherlock answers sharply. "It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."  
  
"The police don't consult amateurs," Greg scoffs.  
  
Sherlock gives him a look.  
  
Greg raises his hands. "All right, yeah. Still not sure why I'm here though."  
  
John gets a glint in his eye. "You could be just the man we need. How much do you know about the restaurant business?"


	20. John and Molly in the Teachers' Lounge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set at the beginning of chapter 12.

"And?" Molly asked eagerly when John came over.  
  
He leaned against the table, his arms folded. "No. I mean, we..." He exhaled heavily. "He invited me over. We had dinner, but it ... I don't think he's interested. Like that. Which is fine."  
  
She could have screamed. Clearly, someone needed to beat some sense into them both. "He's interested. I think he just doesn't know how to go about it," she said tactfully.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, he's never dated anyone, in all the time I've known him."  
  
"Maybe he's kept it quiet."  
  
That really wasn't the case, but she wasn't going to argue it. "Maybe."  
  
"It doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, if he just wants to be friends, I'm fine with that. Honoured, in fact. I have the feeling most people don't appreciate him."  
  
"It's not that; it's that he doesn't let most people appreciate him." She should know. She'd appreciated the hell out of him for years. But she knew it wasn't just that he was gay. It wasn't even just her.  
  
"Yeah," John said, chuckling. "I kind of get that."  
  
Just then, Sherlock appeared in the door to the teachers' lounge, looking around. Looking for John. She nudged her chin in his direction. "There he is."  
  
John turned around, his face pinkening in an unmistakeable blush.


	21. At the Ice Rink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set at the beginning of chapter 21.

"That one, the woman with the red hat: gave up a child for adoption. No more than five years ago."  
  
John laughed around the chestnut in his mouth. "You can't possibly know that."  
  
"And the boy who just fell over - broke something at home recently, something expensive, but no one's found out yet."  
  
John grinned at Sherlock, standing beside him at the railing overlooking the ice rink. "You're just making it up now."  
  
"Not at all, look at the way his skates are laced up-"  
  
John held the bag out for him to take a chestnut.  
  
Sherlock rustled around inside, his fingers bumping John's through the paper. He took a few seconds longer than strictly necessary to choose one. It was almost like before everything had gone so spectacularly wrong. This was the third night in a row they'd gone out after rehearsals. Just as friends, maybe; or maybe ... He couldn't afford to hope. Friends was good. Friends was more than he deserved. He should settle for this, he should be happy. Only he wasn't, and he knew he never would be, now that he knew what else he might have had. A boyfriend. A partner. Someone who...  
  
John popped the last chestnut into his mouth, bumping his arm against Sherlock's and smiling again.  
  
...who made his life bearable.


	22. Gladstone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime after chapter 23 and is based on prompts by frodosweetstuff on LJ and Lorelei_Lee, who wanted Gladstone's POV, and sort of JPerceval, who wanted more about Gladstone and the 'bed adventures'.

The new human was nice. Not as nice as his human, of course, but fun to pal around with. Fairly decent at throwing things so Gladstone could demonstrate his expertise at bringing them back. Good at ear-scratching and tummy-rubbing. Even shared his food sometimes.  
  
Gladstone was put out at first when they sent him out when they rough-housed. Although Gladstone did sometimes find it distressing, hearing his human groan and cry out as if in pain. He wasn't always sure it was a game. And he had some rather yummy chew toys in his new dog bed, so perhaps it was best.  
  
Gladstone did get anxious when the two of them went out alone, though - expressing his opinion on whatever handy article of clothing happened to be lying about. Sometimes they returned hours later in a frightful state: clothing torn (even worse than Gladstone had managed), smelling like other people's waste or burnt things, and worst of all, blood, often their own. Gladstone did his best to patch them up, licking wherever he could reach, but the new human thought he could do it better, wiping sharp-smelling chemicals over their wounds. Gladstone supposed he had to make allowances. Because no matter his faults or how much he'd disrupted his human's life, he was part of their pack now. A brother.


	23. John Moves In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set six months after the end of chapter 23 and is for ruth0007 on LJ, who wanted to see the day John moves in.

By the time John's lease expired, it was well understood without any discussion that he would be moving into Sherlock's house. On the day, however, there somehow ended up being more boxes and bags than anticipated, and although Sherlock was elbow-deep in an interesting case, he found himself helping carry things in from Stamford's car.  
  
At the top of the stairs, Sherlock, weighed down with a box of books - honestly, had John never heard of e-books? - turned left toward the second bedroom, only to hear John stop behind him.  
  
"Er... This way?" John inclined his head to the right. "Or... did you mean to store my things in the other bedroom? Sorry, I just thought-"  
  
Oh. _Oh!_ "Yes, of course, you'll want your things in ... the bedroom. That you'll be using."  
  
"Because I was assuming- But I can use the other one, it's not a problem."  
  
"No! No, it's fine, I'll just...bring this to the master bedroom."  
  
John waited for him, and when Sherlock was even with John, stepped into his path, leaned forward over the boxes they were both holding, and kissed him. "Our bedroom," he said, smiling, his face resting against Sherlock's.  
  
"Yes," Sherlock breathed out. He took the opportunity to steal another kiss, and another, and even though Stamford was downstairs, one more. "Our bedroom."


	24. Daft, Mad, Brilliant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime in the (not so?) distant future and references a moment from chapter 16 of the main fic.

John stood up and stretched. "I'm for bed. Coming?"  
  
Sherlock looked up from his computer. He was working on a spreadsheet of the moss samples from their latest case. He was going to tell John to go ahead, but something about the way John was standing there reminded him of another night.  
  
"Yes, actually," Sherlock said. He put his computer to sleep and followed John up the stairs, turning off the lights as he went. Gladstone clicked along beside them.  
  
Sherlock remembered exactly how it went. John used the bathroom first, while Sherlock put on his pyjamas. Then Sherlock took his turn, while John got Gladstone settled in his dog bed. When Sherlock returned, John was already in bed, lying back with his hands behind his head, watching Sherlock. He smiled, and Sherlock's chest hurt with how much he loved this man.  
  
Sherlock turned off the light and slipped under the covers. Their hands and mouths found each other with practiced ease, and Sherlock was still breathless with the wonder of it, even after all this time.  
  
Afterwards, Sherlock held John close and waited for the tightness in his throat to pass before he said, "I saw this moment. That first night. I knew then."  
  
John smiled and kissed his shoulder and told him he was daft, and mad, and brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is really it! Many, many thanks to all of you for reading and commenting and being enthusiastic throughout. I had loads of fun with this series and I hope you have too. Onward to series 3!


End file.
